Life does terrible things
by maruckaaa
Summary: Rated M for character death and language. Inspired by 'Terrible things' by Mayday Parade.


„Your lips look even bigger when you cry." Latina muttered with her eyes closed, a mild smile hovering over her lips.

Sam couldn't help it. Not even now. A small chuckle escaped between two different sounds. He was attempting to hide the fact tears were escaping his eyes, and that blinking wasn't helping. At least she wasn't looking at him, and she couldn't see him make a fool out of himself.

He couldn't let /her/ comfort him again. Not now. He was the one supposed to be there for her, the one meant to be strong enough to keep both of them in one piece. "I'm /not/ crying Santana."

"Didn't your mama frog tell you not to lie to your fiancé?"

"Don't call my mother a frog."

"Only frog can give a birth to lips like yours."

Tilting his head slightly, blond haired boy placed his hand on top of hers, giving it a soft squeeze. She was so beautiful, even with paleness sneaking under her olive skin, and small wrinkles building their way up her lip line. She went trough so much during last few weeks. Sam barely slept, savoring every moment with his girl, before inevitable came.

Santana Lopez never was sweet. She never was what he wanted in a girl, she never was beautiful like Quinn, or mild like Mercedes. She never was helpful or understanding, she never looked over mistakes.

But she was herself, and she was true. She was his.

When he first saw her… She insulted him.

First date? Never had that.

Break up? It just came naturally.

2nd time they tried, they moved in together after 2 days, mainly because neither had enough money to live alone, in a big city.

When he proposed, she laughed at his face, only to wake him in at 4 in the morning and scream "YES." Into his ear.

And he still had that two scratches on his neck.

First one occurred because he was too close when she found out she was pregnant.

And second one… Because he tried to console her during labor.

**oOo**

"I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me."

"What? I'm not!"

"Then you might wanna wipe that lost puppy dog look off."

A deep crimson blush streamed up the back of his neck and to his cheeks, and he looked away. Why did this had to happen to /him/. Why did he have to fall for the biggest bitch on this planet?

"You're pouting."

"I'm not pouting, Santana."

Wagging a brow up, the girl crossed her arms, leaning further into the sofa in middle of small living room in the apartment the two of them shared.

"You were never a good liar, Sammers. Your eyes are a bit too wid, and you try not to look at me. "

Dammit.

"And the fact you're speechless isn't going in your favor."

"Shut up, will you?"

"Make me."

"No."

"Why? Problems with your peac—"

She never got to finish that sentence, since both her and Sam tumbled to the floor few seconds later, after a failed tickle session.

**oOo**

"You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

"Santana, please… Don't. Just… Don't."

"You were. You and that little nerd we made."

Again… He was laughing, managing to choke up on his tears.

**oOo**

"I'm /not/ drinking."

"Santana, I saw you!"

"It wasn't alcohol."

"No? What was it? Tea in Henny's bottle?"

"Cough syrup. Made of herbs, that my nana made."

"… What?"

"Sore throat, and I don't wanna poison him with chemicals."

"Santana…"

"Sod off."

"Santana, I'm so so—"

BAM. She slammed the door into his face.

**oOo**

"What were you singing earlier?"

"Singing?"

"Yeah… While I was asleep… I swear I heard I heard music."

"Oh. Blaine was over… He and Kurt are taking care of James till we can go home again, and James insisted he sang his new favorite song to you. Duck Tales."

A silence fell after few seconds, and Santana reached out, placing her hand gently on Sam's cheek. The hope on his face was so true, and so present, that it almost had Santana believe. But they both knew nothing was going to change this. There was no going home for her.

**oOo**

"Are you okay?"

"I have /stretchmarks/. You made me get fucking /stretchmarks/."

Naturally, that was all she was worrying about. "I'll just call your dad and tell him he became grandpa."

"You do that. Then you can put our baby in your mouth and hop off to show him off. He'll be nice and warm in there.

**oOo**

"You can't come in."

"Why?"

Doctor's voice was flat and serious, and Sam knew something was wrong. Something changed.

"Is… Is my wife alive?"

Next two words weren't what he needed. No. "For now." Wasn't good enough. He needed time. He needed to… he needed to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay. No. For now wasn't working, at all.

**oOo**

"I look like a noodle."

"You look beautiful."

"Compared to you, I do."

"I love it when you sweet talk me."

"Screw you, Evans."

"Pft. You're soon to be one, too."

"Only because I'm too scared that if I say no, you'll unlock your humongous yaw and swallow me whole."

**oOo**

"Santana Lopez was something." A small, flat chuckles here and there. "Never simple, always complicated. She hid her kindness behind rough composure and snarky remarks, but… But anyone that got the chance to know her, loved her. There had to be a lot to her, since so many people loved her, and overlooked all of the insults she gave them. I was lucky enough to know her, and to be her best friend. "

Brittany looked down from her notes, examining her shoes for a moment, before carrying on. "I met her in primary school. Before she knew she was beautiful. Before her forces were up. The always protected me. I was her ditzy blonde, and… And—… She was amazing. She was meanest person I ever met, but she fought. Everything. She tried to do what was right, when everyone thought it wasn't. She wasn't afraid of change. "

**oOo**

"But I /want/ it back!"

Small boy's lips pressed tightly together and he stared at his father accusingly, managing to make him wince. Only one person could do that to him… And this little man had her eyes, and darn it, he had her glare.

"You gave it to mommy, Jamie. You gave it to mommy, and she took it with her."

The truth was… Damn bear was burned, when Santana was cremated. And how was he supposed to explain this to his six year old?

God dammit…

"When will she be back?"

"James, we talked about this. One day, you will see mommy again, and you can take your bear then. Okay bud?"

"Soon?"

"No, no. Be patient."

"I miss her."

"I know. I do too. But she's watching over us right now."


End file.
